


Turn Around

by StarllingWrites



Series: Monster Tales [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Demon, Haunting, Monsters, Shadow Monster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 14:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22497652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarllingWrites/pseuds/StarllingWrites
Summary: All my life, I've been told to never look behind me, but never why. The most I ever got was that it was a matter of life and death. Judging by everyone's reactions to me, I was certain that there was some monstrous being following behind me. After one frightening night, I learned it could speak.Contains: swearing; mild instances of violence; mild suggestive themes; ambiguous ending – potential suicidal interpretation; trypophobia mention (when you read the line, “Tonight we werewatching a random monster B-movie,” skip to the next paragraph to avoid the description)
Series: Monster Tales [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1434211
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Turn Around

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the following [prompt from tumblr user write-it-motherfuckers](https://write-it-motherfuckers.tumblr.com/post/174562317002/growing-up-your-parents-were-always-very):  
> 

My first memory of the rule was when I was a toddler and my parents were teaching me how to turn around. If I turned to the side, I just had to keep my focus straight ahead. If I turned more than ninety degrees, then I had to close my eyes, turn, and only when I was facing the direction I needed to go could I open my eyes again.

Back then it didn’t seem an odd thing to specifically teach a child. I _was_ an infant—incapable of the cognition to ask such questions. But they taught me that I couldn’t carelessly turn around. They taught me it was rude and wrong to just glance over my shoulder.

Just before my fifth birthday, my parents were dead strict about one rule: I must never look behind me. _It’s a matter of life and death_ , they’d lecture but never explained any more than that. I could still look in mirrors and use cameras and such. It was only direct observation behind myself that I couldn’t do.

They tested me, calling to me from behind on the days leading up to my birthday. But by then their teachings were so ingrained in me. It instantly became clear how serious I needed to treat this after I turned five. It also radically changed the kind of childhood I led.

My next day back at kindergarten was a disaster. Half the other kids started screaming, crying when I entered the classroom. No one would come close to me. The teacher did her best to calm them but it’s hard to sooth children when you yourself are so obviously unnerved and weary.

My parents started homeschooling me then.

It wasn’t all bad. For first grade, they set up a special stream of the classroom for me. It was almost like I was there. I could see everyone; they could see me on a screen. And no one screamed. They asked if I was a robot—I was just a face on screen and a voice over speakers—but they weren’t afraid of me. For classes like gym and art, special teachers came to our home.

It was lonely, never having anyone to play with now. But I favored the solitude to their cries.

To my parents’ chagrins, I became numb to everyone’s reactions rather quickly. It was only ever an issue around younger kids anyways. Most older children and adults could control themselves and keep their reactions to looks and quick excuses to leave.

As a teenager, I got cocky about whatever it was that everyone saw behind me. I pushed the boundaries of everything. I stayed out late and walked home alone. I snuck into concerts I was too young for. Every situation that I should have feared being in, I sought out. No one ever messed with me; and that gave me a small invincibility complex.

When I was seventeen, I finally had my first experience in love. I was at some horror punk show and this guy kept looking over at me all night and smiling. It was weird, but it was a nice change from the looks of fright and aversion. When the bands were switching out he approached me and started flirting with me. I was so taken aback that someone was showing interest in me that I didn’t give any thought about if I was actually attracted to him—I wasn’t in a position to be picky. We talked and danced all night. After the event closed, we loitered in the parking lot. He even kissed me.

It was the best night of my life. But then he asked me something that was… just wrong.

“So uh, did you sell your soul to that thing or something?”

“What?”

“That freaky thing behind you,” he gestured around me. “Have you ever killed someone with it?”

It became quickly clear that he wasn’t interested in me at all. I thought I had noticed his gaze drifting behind me throughout the night; but I had written it off as him enjoying the event. The questions became more invasive as I fumbled around noncommittal answers.

Then he got aggressive. Being even less accustomed to physical contact with people, I flipped out. I screamed and shut my eyes and flailed. I fell on the ground and scurried until I felt grass. I got up and looked back at where the asshole and I had been talking. He was lying prone on the ground. Silent. Unmoving. Half of me wanted to see what happened to him. The other half wanted to run home and forget I ever met him.

The latter side won.

Back home, I crept into the bathroom. I stripped to my underwear and braced my hands on either side of the sink, doing my best to calm down. It was stupid to think someone had genuine interest in me. I glared at my reflection. Like always, I saw nothing behind me. “The fucking hell are you?” I mumbled aloud.

**« If you want to know so badly, look and see. »  
**

I jumped back and almost, _almost_ , looked over my shoulder at the sudden new voice. It could speak? It was sentient? My heart was thundering like a herd of wild mustangs. All this time I could talk to it. Why had my parents never mentioned that? It took me a minute to find my ability to speak. “What… what’s your name?”

It chuckled impishly, the sound moving from my right side to my left. **«** **So many years, and now you ask? »  
**

“I didn’t know I could talk to you,” I defended. “You’ve been with me most my life; you should know I haven’t been told anything about you even when I asked.”

It simply hummed affirmatively.

“What will happen if I look at you?” I wasn’t expecting to get an answer but I had to ask.

**« Turn and find out. »  
**

As I figured. Now that my shock subsided, I turned on the faucet. “Why are you following me?” I splashed water on my face as I waited for its answer, but I didn’t receive one. I patted my face dry then went to my room. “Am I cursed?”

—“Did my parents make a deal with a demon or something?”

—“Do you hate having to follow me?”

—“How old are you?

Each question I came up with was met with silence. It was a jerk move considering the thing gave my crap not even five minutes ago for never talking to it before. I grabbed a pillow off my bed and chucked it behind me. It let out a single snort. I sighed in defeat and curled up on the window seat, staring out at the view I’d grown to hate over the years.

“Are you lonely too?”

Just when I thought I’d still get only silence, it responded. **«** **At times. »  
**

It was a bit weird, but I was happy to hear its answer. Then an urge came over me. It had been so long since I had a connection with someone—I was not counting tonight with that creep. Maybe, just maybe, we could at least be friendlier. “What would you like me to call you?”

**« Why are you persistent to learn about me? »  
**

“Why not?” I shrugged. “We’re stuck together. You’ve had no choice in learning things about me. And I doubt you get an opportunity to chat with other… whatever you are.”

It—they? I didn’t know how to address it/them—was silent again. What did it say that even the monster that followed me didn’t want to be my friend? I shut my eyes and started playing music in my mind.

**« Zastrozuth. »  
**

From that night on, Zastrozuth and I grew closer. They weren’t the most talkative, but neither was I. Now their presence held a level of comfort. And when I moved away from home, I didn’t feel lonely.

Zas was great at helping me hang things straight. They also helped me when I was too indecisive to make a choice on dinner, or on my outfit. While we only had little moments like this, they were the deepest connections I had ever had. I cherished them.

Perhaps a bit too much, as the years went on.

It was a rainy, autumn evening. I was home watching movies with Zas. Tonight we were watching a random monster B-movie. The FX makeup was pretty on point, which made me cringe and gag a bit when a trypophobic’s nightmare showed up oozing slime out of its many holes. I didn’t have that phobia but this thing—yeesh! Anyone would be creeped out by it.

While imagining what _touching_ that monster would feel like, my thoughts ended up drifting to Zas. What did they feel like? Were they furry, or scaly, or slimy? I wasn’t even sure if they had a physical form. Presumably, they were a phantom following behind me; but that doesn’t mean they were always like that.

“Can I touch you?” I absently asked before I could stop myself. The moment the words left my lips I cringed and clarified, “Like, if I reached behind me right now—would I feel you?”

**« No. »  
**

“Oh.” I should have guessed. But like with all the questions I had about Zas, I had to ask—my curiosity about them was unrelenting.

Then they asked, **« Do you want to touch me? »  
**

Heat rose to my cheeks. The way they said it just sent my mind straying towards red lights. “I didn’t mean it like that,” I defended.

**« Like what? »  
**

Nope. I was not playing that game. They might not be able to control the way their voice made the words sound, but they’d been in this world long enough to understand the implications of their wording. Maybe it was my lack of human interaction that made it feel… intimate. Regardless, the idea joined the many curiosities I had about Zas.

This was not how movie night was supposed to go!

“Never mind,” I said, no longer wanting to be in this conversation. “It was just a random question that came to mind.” I shouldn’t have asked. I adjusted and snuggled deeper into the couch cushion. This movie was failing to grab my attention anymore.

**« I can ask. »  
**

“Huh?”

**« While you sleep. I can ask if there is a way. »  
**

“Oh. Um… Sure, I guess. You don’t have to, but it’s up to you,” I floundered. So many more questions flooded my mind. But I kept them all to myself. As much as I wanted to learn more, I would never know much about Zastrozuth. It was for the best. Probably.

When I woke up the next morning, I already wanted it to be over. “Morning, Zas,” I yawned.

**« You did not rest well. »  
**

“Nope.” My straying thoughts had kept me awake for hours. Then I had unnerving dreams that I couldn’t remember the details of now but left a haunting impression. It didn’t help when I remembered what we had talked about last night. I stretched then curled back up on my side, tugging my blanket up to my chin. I didn’t expect to feel this anxious. “Any news?”

**« It could be done. But it would require manifesting on your plane. »  
**

“And what would that mean exactly?”

**« I’m unaware if I’ll be able to demanifest afterwards. If I can’t, you’d see me in mirrors and cameras. »  
**

“Would… would that trigger the thing? If I saw you that way—would that still count?”

**« I am unaware. »  
**

“I see.” So either things could stay how they are, or I could give up mirrors and selfies so I could touch them. Then I realized something else. “Would it be difficult for you to follow me if you manifested?”

There was a pause before they answered. **«** **It would be an adjustment. »  
**

“So yes,” I sighed. I sat up and scratched my head, frustrated by this decision. I kicked off my blanket and started to get ready for the day.

This would be a major decision.

Zas didn’t bring it up again, but it weighed heavy on my mind the rest of the morning. I tried to push it from my thoughts but it would creep back up. “What do you think?” I suddenly asked them.

**« Think of what? »  
**

“About the manifesting thing. Is it even something you’d want?”

They took their time thinking it over then finally exhaled in a frustrated, overthinking manner. **«** **I am not sure. »  
**

“Well if it’s something that you don’t want, I’m not going to ask it of you. If you ever decided that you’d like to, then we can talk about it more then. Sound good?”

Their gentle breath on my neck made me shiver. It wasn’t often they were close enough for me to feel their presence. **« You’re an odd human. »  
**

“You’re only noticing this now?” I snickered. Their answering growl made me laugh more.

A few years later, I found a cheap, little house in the middle of nowhere to rent. It was ironic that I sought such solitude now when I had despised it as a kid. But this solitude was different. This house was mine. In this space, I had no worries. Unlike with my previous apartments, I didn’t have neighbors—no one around to side-eye me. This solitude was freedom.

On a gorgeous, sunny day, I decided to venture down to the lake that was a short bike ride away. A couple of the locals had houses along its perimeter but they were spaced out enough that I didn’t feel worried about anyone seeing and bothering Zas and me. The water was still on the nippy side but I swam anyway—or rather, awkwardly doggy-paddled since I never had lessons.

Swimming didn’t last long. Between my lack of athleticism and the chilly waters, I soon retreated to my towel on the shore. “Hey, Zas?” I asked while sunning myself.

**« Yes? »  
**

“Do you ever think about that one question I had asked?”

**« Be specific or I will eat you. »  
**

I snorted, unfazed by their dark humor. “About touching,” I said. The creepy feel of seaweed brushing my legs when I was swimming brought my train of thought back to that question. I wiggled my toes in the sand while I waited for their answer.

**« A time or two. »  
**

“And your thoughts?” I cautiously asked.

This wasn’t the first time I had thought about it since the night I asked. I wouldn’t admit it, but it was partially why I moved here; why I didn’t have stainless steel appliances; why the bathroom mirror was the only one in the house. It was all in case Zas manifested and reflections of them now triggered the spell between us.

**« Do… you still desire it? »  
**

I was not ready for that, so I deflected. “That’s not an answer.”

They gruffly sighed. The longer they didn’t answer, the more I wished I hadn’t brought it up. Then…

**« Say the word. »  
**

A shiver pulsed through me. Was this really happening? This precipice we now danced on made my heart thunder in my ears. I took a deep breath to try to calm it. “Do it.”

The gentle breeze that had been dancing around us swelled into a dizzying gust. For a moment, it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I shut my eyes and waited.

The wind stilled. I could feel Zas’s shadow over me, blocking the sun from my back. Their breath ruffled my hair. I reached my hand slightly behind me, my fingers splayed.

They took my hand.

It was foolish how giddy it made me feel. Then again, I _was_ touched starved for nearly all my life. Whatever this was probably wouldn’t be healthy under normal circumstances. But my life, and our relationship, was far from it.

“How does it feel?”

**« Strange. But… not in a bad way. »  
**

That night, I slept curled in their large arms.

Exactly eight days later, the first incident occurred. Zas and I were walking to get the mail. I didn’t notice anything, but when they told me to stop, I did.

**« Close your eyes. Don’t open them until I tell you. »  
**

Again, I obeyed without question. My anxiety rocketed as I strained to hear something, anything, that could give me a clue to what was going on. Nothing. There was nothing for so long. “Zas?” I whispered.

No answer.

Panic began settling in. Did they leave me? What was happening? What if something happened to them? My chest tightened as endless questions rushed through my mind. I feared the worse. It was tempting to open my eyes, but I kept them such as Zas ordered. I had to have faith in them. I had to…

Heavy panting rumbled behind me, making me jump. For all my desire to hear anything again, I wasn’t thrilled with getting my wish now. Something thick squelched on the ground—drool? Blood? Something more unsettling? I trembled with each vicious breath I heard.

**« You may look now. »  
**

The breath I was holding shuddered out of me. “What happened? You sound hurt.”

It was a moment before they answered, as if they needed to muster the strength to talk. **«** **Some creatures… reavers, appeared. I have dealt with them. »  
**

“You’ve never mentioned them before.”

**« They’ve never been around before. »  
**

“Why now?—oh…” The moment I asked, the obvious answer popped in my head. Zas was corporeal. I cleared my throat. “So this is one of the consequences, huh?”

**« There might be another reason. However, that seems the likeliest case. »  
**

“And let me guess—there’s no way to stop them from coming?”

**« No. »  
**

“Fuckin’ great,” I muttered, then continued on with the original reason we were out here. I hated the thought of Zas needing to fight off creatures for me. It trudged up all the guilt I’ve felt about asking them to manifest. What else was going to happen now?

In the coming days and nights, more creatures were drawn to us. Zas took care of them all. Horrors plagued my dreams and I’d scream myself awake. Zas held and calmed me until I could sleep again. I started jumping at little sounds. Silence was equally unnerving. Zas did what they could to settle my nerves, but the bit of peace never lasted.

After a few months of this, I had had enough. Then I came up with a plan.

I called up my parents. It had been a bit since we last caught up. I told them all about the house and how I loved being out here. I left out Zas becoming physical, and the other creatures now drawn to us. They would only worried.

“So um—I called because I need you guys to come watch my house for a bit. Can you do that?”

“I have to request off,” mom slowly started, notably concerned. “But sure. We can do that honey.”

“Thanks. Just let me know when you can make it and I can get everything ready.”

Mom dragged the conversation out long enough that, after I hung up, I groaned and face-planted onto the couch.

**« If talking to your parents is so exhausting, why invite them here? »  
**

“Like I said on the phone—I need them to watch the house.”

**« And why is that? »  
**

“You’ll see,” I chirped. It was a surprise. One that even I wasn’t sure how would play out.

I waited outside on the day my parents were to arrive. The late-summer sun blazed overhead, though the winds of a coming storm blew softly through the trees. Hopefully my parents would get here before it hit.

I drummed my fingers on the hood of my car. It had been years since my parents last saw me—saw Zas. How would they react now? Hopefully, they wouldn’t notice they’re physical. That was why I waited by my car, so Zas could already be inside, prepared to go.

When they arrived, Mom talked a bunch while Dad remained mostly silent. He kept glancing at Zas—could he tell? Mom, on the other hand, seemed to avoid looking at Zas and me all together. At least neither of them tried to fake that things were better than they were.

To everyone’s relief, I didn’t draw the moment out. I said my goodbyes, got in my car and drove off towards town.

But, I never made it to town.

Halfway down to the main road, I pulled over next to a field. Without a word to Zas, I got out and walked into the tall grass. Closing my eyes, I turned my face up to the sky and spun around in a couple circles. I soaked in the moment. “I’m ready,” I murmured.

**« For? »  
**

I opened my eyes and gazed at the pure blue sky striated by thin, wispy clouds. I couldn’t have asked for a more poetically beautiful day. I reached back until my hand found theirs, our fingers naturally entwining. “To look.”

There was a long pause. **«** **Are you sure? »  
**

“Yes.” I explained all my thoughts from over the past few months; about the letter I left my parents telling them about my decision. That was the real reason I asked them to come. Since I didn’t know what was going to happen, I left my keys there and the details for my personal accounts just in case. It had been a challenge to arrange everything without tipping Zas off to my plan. I didn’t think they would try to dissuade me, per se. But this… this wasn’t something I had wanted any input on.

“So since I’m going to look at you, can you tell me what’s going to happen?”

They chuckled. **«** **No. »  
**

I shrugged. “Worth a shot.” I took a long, steadying breath. “If this is my last moment, I just wanna say that I’ve enjoyed our time together.”

**« Me too, little one. »  
**

I felt their touch brush my arm. The butterflies I had settled. The things I feared all my life no longer worried me. After everything we had been through, I trusted them.

I turned around and looked at Zastrozuth.


End file.
